


(1) missed call

by skeleton_rose



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Absent Parents, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot, Squip mention, angst with happy ending, parents are dicks, rich is amazing and has sage advice, supressing feelings, toxic parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleton_rose/pseuds/skeleton_rose
Summary: Jake’s parents never call, until they do.





	(1) missed call

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I suck at titles forgive me XD- again, I never write because I suck but oh well, have this finally finished one shot from my closet of ideas. I always wondered how Jake feels about his obviously absent parents, and I feel nobody ever acknowledges Rich’s father either so have this one shot about crappy parenting and the following angst.i tried writing Rich’s lisp into the dialogue but it sounded crap so I mention it occasionally instead forgiiive meeee  
> Comments welcome!!! Xx enjoy my lovelys

Jake really wasn't happy to be woken up at 8 am by his shrill and obnoxious ring tone breaking the chill, early morning silence and his rather blissful sleep. Firstly, because it was a Saturday, a day of rest and lie-ins, even if he didn't have a hang over. Secondly, and most importantly, Jake could feel the warmth radiating off a certain someone curled up against his back, arms wrapped around his middle and soft breathe tickling the back of his neck. He was so content, curled up with his boyfriend (and wasn't that a lovely thought, his boyfriend) and warm under the covers with a lazy day of make-outs and tv binging ahead. Jake decided to ignore the ringtone, letting his eyes flutter closed and reaching down to trace Rich's knuckles.  
Until the phone rang again. Jake opened his eyes, lazily glaring at the culprit buzzing on his bedside table. He could see the soft drape of early sun against the wall, feel the fresh morning air nip the tips of his ears. As the buzzing droned on, Jake felt Rich stir, tightening his arms around Jake's middle and mumbling incoherently. Jake chuckled as he heard a couples of curses and 'what the fuck's mumbled sleepily against his back.  
"Just my phone. They'll probs give up eventually."  
Rich groaned, murmuring something that sounded almost like a whine as he traced his hands up and down Jake's stomach; Jake laughed sleepily.  
"not a morning person are you?"  
Jake received a pinch to his stomach in response.  
"ouch!"  
Rich simply chuckled, burrowing into Jake's neck; Jake turned to look towards his phone, glad to see the phone has stopped its relentless ringing. Although it was pointless now: he was very much awake.  
So was Rich. He ran his fingers along Jake's ribs, whispering, " who the fuck was calling you this early," against Jake's neck; Jake shrugged in response. It was early, so Rich’s lisp slipped through (and Jake loved it when it did).  
“whoever they are, they are ass-hole" Rich groaned, and Jake laughed.  
"They dare disturb my beauty sleep," Rich uttered, running circles softly against Jake's ribs as he pulled himself even closer, "with my boyfriend."  
Jake felt his heart jump at the word boyfriend; Rich just continued to touch, tracing his lips against Jake's jaw-line, applying enough pressure to make Jake's breath hitch. Rich continued upwards, his kisses growing more heated; Jake let out a soft sigh, revelling in the soft touches, the lazy kisses...  
When the phone rang again he let out an irritated sigh.  
"I better answer that. It's the third time in a row."  
Rich whined what sounded like a no against his back, clinging onto him tighter. Jake tried to pull himself up, only he brought with him the dead weight of Rich clinging onto him like a muscular, tired koala-bear.  
"c'mon, Rich."  
Rich gave a noise of protest and untangled himself, leaving Jake feeling cold without him. Rich gave out several grumbles while Jake pulled up his tired body, drowsiness turning his muscles to lead. He blinked himself awake, adjusting to the bright glare of his phone screen. He reached for his phone, getting goose bumps from the cold and already missing Rich' s warmth. He fumbled for his phone, swearing at it under his breath and already deciding to hate whoever was calling him at this ungodly...  
When Jake saw the caller ID his breath caught in his throat. The phone kept ringing in his hand, but he just stared into the brightness, head swimming.  
"who is it?” Rich grumbled. " Tell them they're the fucking..."  
"My parents."  
A pause, filled with the ringing phone and Jake's head shooting off with so many questions, so many...  
"Your...parents?”  
Jake murmured in response, hardly aware of anything other than the ringing, drilling into his brain, and the bold letters saying "mum, dad" on his phone screen.  
"Were you expecting a..."  
"no."  
Jake stared blankly at the screen, feeling it buzz through his palm, over and over and...  
It stopped.  
Jake felt shifting behind him, felt strong arms wrap around his middle and a firm jaw line rest on his shoulder, reminding him he wasn't alone. Jake leaned into the touch, clutching his phone tightly; when it started ringing again he jolted with surprise, even though he'd been expecting it. When hands gripped his hips tightly, he felt safer, anchored to the bed. He clicked to take the call.  
When he pressed it to his ear, it took a moment to hear anything, with all the static and the roaring in his ears. He could hear voices, some overlapping voices of people in a crowd and the odd mechanical sound of a loudspeaker: were they at a train station? He listened through the crackle of bad reception, trying to hear...  
"Jake?"  
Jake's heart stopped, his voice coming out choked.  
"Mum?"  
She sounded exactly the same, voice warm but slightly scratchy, worn from smoking; Jake felt his heart ache at how long it'd been since he'd heard that voice.  
"Thank God we managed to get a hold of you, things haven't been easy see."  
The mere fact that they were trying to get a hold of him made Jake's heart stutter in his chest.  
"Yeah, mum I..."  
"Did you get the money?"  
" what..."  
His mother sighed, and his heart squeezed uncomfortably.  
"We haven't got all day honey... the money for the month? We needed to check you got it, as this month we've been all over the place."  
"Yeah I..." Rich squeezed tighter round Jake's middle, and Jake took a shaky breath. " I got this month's money. So what have..."  
"Great darling!"  
Jake could hear the smile in her voice, and hated that it was hard to remember what it looked like.  
"Well your father should be back soon with the tickets..."  
His dad.  
"Oh, can I..."  
"We've really got to dash sweetheart, but we'll talk again...some time. Soon I'm sure."  
Jake hated how rushed she sounded. Hated how she was acting as if their last call was two days ago, not two months ago. Hated how he knew that 'soon' meant not soon at all. How he wouldn't even get to say hi to his dad.  
"oh, ok." His voice sounded small, like it was strangled out of him.  
"Bye honey!"  
And just like that, the call was over.  
It was so short, like a blip on the grand scheme of things, tiny. Jake just clutched the phone, willing it to call. Wanting to call back, but knowing it would go straight to voicemail, not even personalised so he could at least remind himself of what their voices sounded like. What was the point of that call? What?  
He could scarcely register the feeling of Rich' s hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them at an attempt of comfort; Rich didn't say anything, probably not sure of what of say. Jake stared blankly at the phone, watching the screen go black. Suddenly he couldn't stand it, the silence, the brief moment of joy at contacting his parents; suddenly he was raising his arm and hurling his phone at the wall, the resulting crash and crackle of his phone splintering into pieces not quite registering in his brain. He felt Rich flinch, and part of him felt guilty. The part of him that also wanted to forgive his parents.  
Jake stared at the phone, and felt his heart squeeze, because there was a slight dent in the wall and a cracked screen but not utter destruction, not pieces everywhere. The phone his parents bought for him wasn't destroyed beyond repair and the wall of their house was barely scratched.  
"Jake?"  
Jake breathed out slowly, his throat tight.  
"Yeah?"  
"Are you alright?"  
Jake huffed a laugh in response, and swallowed whatever harsh remark he had sitting on the top of his tongue. When he mumbled out a "yeah" it didn't sound like himself. He felt Rich grip him tighter, soft fingers moving through his hair, softly stroking out the tangles.  
"You don't have to be, Jake" he mumbled against his neck.  
But he did didn't he? Because if he complained, if he made a fuss...  
"Seriously, I'm fine." As if to emphasise his point, he reached for Rich's hand and gave it a squeeze, before worming out of Rich's embrace and making his way towards the door. He had to make it up to Rich. For smashing his phone, for being pathetic.  
"I'll make breakfast."  
"Jake you really don't..."  
"I want to." It sounded too harsh, coming out snappish. Jake turned to look at Rich, and regretted it when he saw the look of pity and worry. No, just pity. He needed to prove he was fine.  
Jake left the bedroom, his guts twisting uncomfortably. He had to be fine, no, he was fine. He was fine.  
Jake made it to the kitchen; he stared at the room briefly, trying to get every thought out of his head about his parents and concentrate on ingredients. To make breakfast, to make...  
Jake swallowed. He took a deep breath. Those weren't tears pricking at his eyelids: he was just tired. He scanned the kitchen, before remembering where he kept the bacon. And pancake ingredients, yes. Good idea. Pushing aside the memory of dad making pancakes to wake him and mum up on somebody's birthday, Jake grabbed the stuff from the fridge and cupboard; he placed it all on the side, grabbing a frying pan. He tried to concentrate on that, rather than the fact that he was beginning to forget what his dad sounded like. Beginning to forget every thing they ever did as a family, if they ever did in the first place.  
Jake zoned out as he made the batter, his hands moving as if he was being operated my strings, his head fuzzy. He put the pancakes in the pan, watching the batter bubble away. He was still staring at the pan when he heard soft footsteps approach. He didn’t turn. He flipped the pancake over with a spatula, poking it a couple times, and hauling it onto the plate. It was an odd shape and uneven on one side, but for a ‘I’m definitely okay’ breakfast it was decent enough.  
“First one done!” He said with a smile he didn’t mean.  
He heard Rich approach; he heard the slap of slippers on the linoleum floor: those stupid kermit slippers. They stopped pretty close to Jake, and he straightened up, tightened his grip on the spatula. Jake reached for the batter to pour another pancake, and found a hand already there waiting for him. Jake turned and saw Rich with a lopsided smile, his eyes soft and gentle. Jake turned away with a quick I’m fine.  
“You’re not”  
Jake huffed out a laugh and batted Rich’s hand away. He grabbed the batter and poured.  
“Jake...”  
“You don’t know how I feel.” He snapped, feeling instantly guilty. But he remained turned around, watching the batter sizzle and fry. He watched each bubble of batter intensely, because it distracted him. He needed distractions.  
“Well not exactly,” Rich’s voice was steady:Jake’s hand holding the spatula was not.  
“But I know you enough to know when you’re not...  
“Why wouldn’t I be ok?” He said with a fake curiosity, poking way too hard at the pancake and tearing a hole in it.  
“Because your parents are dicks.”  
Jake swung around. “You can’t say that.”  
“But they are!”  
Rich looked suddenly mad, eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched.  
“They are dicks, at least to you...”  
Jake slammed his spatula on the surface, spitting out,” You don’t even know them Rich”  
“ I don’t want to,” Rich said. His eyes were pained. “If they treat you like this I don’t want to.”  
Jake sighed shakily.  
“They don’t..” His throat tightened. “They’re fine...just busy.”  
Rich let out an exasperated sigh. “There’s difference between busy and can’t be bothered.”  
Jake didn’t want to shout at Rich, but his heart was aching and everything Rich said was true and it hurt.  
“SHUT UP!”  
He though Rich would jump or get mad but Rich simply stood his ground and stared Jake down.  
“You don’t have to defend them Jake.”  
“THEY’RE MY PARENTS,” he yelled, voice strained. He was going to cry but he desperately didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Jake swallowed thickly, clenching his fists and trying to absorb his anger as he turned away.  
“They’re my parents.”  
The pancake was slowly turning black in the pan. It sizzled and curled at the edges; it began to smoke. The acrid smell of burning made Jake’s senses pick up again, and he quickly remembered that sometimes Rich can be triggered by smoke. Instantly he turned off the grill and threw the pancake in the trash, not quite registering that Rich had gone silent. When he turned to put the pan in the sink, Rich was sitting at the table. With the one pancake in front of him. Because Jake could only make one before breaking down.  
Jake let the pan cool in the sink and sat opposite Rich, heart in his mouth. The kitchen was silent; Rich stared down at the plate with tired eyes. Jake sighed.  
“Rich, I’m sorr...”  
“One of the reasons I took the squip was because I blamed myself for my dad.”  
Jake was left speechless. It came out of nowhere, like most of Rich’s confessions. Rich would open up at random points, randomly tell Jake Squip related things or things to do with his dad. They were actually in the grocery store when Rich admitted he was basically suicidal before the Squip, and just like then Jake was lost for words now.  
But Rich wasn’t finished.  
Rich clasped his hands nervously on the table, not looking up as he said,” I blamed myself for the way he treated me, the things he said to me. I thought that it must be my fault...” he began to pick at his nails, lisp obvious in his shaky voice. “ because Dads were meant to love their children. Look after them. So surely...” he looked up, but looked down instantly. Jake’s heart was breaking silently in his chest.  
“Surely it was me that unloveable.”  
The silence that followed was deafening . Jake could only stare at Rich’s lowered head, his constantly moving hands. Then suddenly green eyes met his and his heart was in his throat.  
“Thing is, I’m not unlovable. Especially not by someone good, because I know that you love me, and you’re one of the best people I know.” Rich was smiling, even though his eyes were shining with tears. He let out a chuckle and wiped his eyes, smiling still.  
“I thought I owed my father respect, understanding,” he said as his face hardened.  
“But I fucking didn’t. I thought I did, because he’s my dad, but I only owe respect and love to people who respect and love me”.  
Jake blinked, and tears blinded his vision slightly. Which sucked, because Rich was a sight to behold.  
“Of course,” Rich sighed “I don’t believe that all the time. Sometime I slip into my old ‘self blame’ ways.” He looked up, almost as he just remembered Jake was there watching him.  
“But I wanted you to know i know exactly why you feel loyal, or like you owe them something. Of course, you’re still going to want to. And me rambling isn’t necessarily going to change it instantly...”  
“You’re not...” Jake cut in, and his tears were falling down his cheeks now.  
“You’re not...rambl...”  
Rich was by his side before he even registered he was crying. And he was crying a lot. Shoulders heaving and tears everywhere as he sobbed into Rich’s shoulder like he couldn’t stop. Rich was just holding him, rubbing his back and whispering to him that it was going to be okay, it was okay. Jake’s chest ached, and his eyes burned like he’d been holding on for way too long. Maybe he had. He just knew that Rich was right, and he was probably going to be ok. Not right now, but eventually.  
When Jake’s sobs turned to quiet hiccups, Rich pulled away slightly to look him in the eye, to gently wipe any stray tears.  
“You good?” He said.  
Jake smiled shakily and replied, “not really.”  
Rich’s eyes were watering, but he smiled back at him.  
“Of course not”.  
“But I will be.” It wasn’t a question, but it felt like one.  
“Of course.”

 

\- [ ]


End file.
